"In the Zone"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

Note: with the TBS being however long it takes for the marine and security strike teams to get it together and in gear, the following log reflects the security prep from Kitty’s point of view only prior to planet-fall and post planet-fall.

 

- Kansas >^..^<

 

02.16.08

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“In the Zone”

 

Security Offices, USS Agincourt

 

Adrenaline and excited anticipation along with an equal parts dose of nausea…Lt. Commander Kansas JoNs had always reacted the same way to any kind of insertion and extraction based mission.

 

From the ages of eighteen through thirty, the feline had been for lack of a better term a professional student. After completing a one year high school preparation program, she had enrolled in the Starfleet Academy in 2384 as an eighteen year old cadet and chose to major in the security and tactical studies. Her secondary areas of training had been for piloting and sniper studies. For the next thirteen years, Kansas served on a variety of ship based and ground based training assignments as she honed her officer and talent skills. With her posting to the USS Agincourt in the year 2397, JoNs began her first non-training based assignment at the age of thirty one.

 

Thirteen years may have passed since the feline graced the corridors of the academy, but one thing had not changed over the years: the pre-insertion adrenaline and excited anticipation mixed with nausea that she felt, and the current mission of the Agincourt crew to breach the Selshan and Soltan held prison was no exception. Her first insertion mission had been during her training cruise on the USS Arrow Fire, and she had gone on a puking binge in the head prior to deployment. Oh, the whole situation had been lovely, and the fact that she had been scared sh*tless as well had probably been a good thing, as that little added complication would have really been an embarrassing situation to find ones self in. As it was, JoNs had to endure some razzing from her teammates for the puking but she bucked up and got through the mission.

 

The feline security chief walked down the corridor to the main transporter room, tramping down on her nausea, and getting her head in the game. She acknowledged the ‘sirs’ and ‘good luck sirs’ of passing crewmen, but it was more out of habit then anything as she rapidly found herself slipping into the zone, so to speak. Her sniper rifle was slung securely over her shoulder, and the weight of the weapon felt comforting. While she wasn’t a particularly bloodthirsty security officer, the Caitian had always enjoyed her few stints as a sniper backup on an insertion mission. Striking from a distance had an appeal to it - clean, swift, and you didn’t get your paws dirty. With that said, the life of a professional sniper was a lonely one, and the main reason that Kansas had never chosen to specialize in the field, instead opting to only receive the necessary minimum training in order to provide backup cover on missions such as this one. Going from assignment to assignment, being on your own for weeks at a time while you tracked a target and waited for that perfect widow of opportunity to take your shot and drill the target through the head…no thanks. Most professional snipers had ice water flowing in their viens, were loners, hard cases, and went from assignment to assignment more often then their ship-based counterparts, and were usually not really close to anyone. JoNs had read enough security psych articles to know that on average about eighty five percent of those that entered into either the marine or security sniper ranks tended to burn out early. The feline didn’t intend to go out that way.

 

The Caitian entered the main transporter room and gave both Lieutenant Nimetti and Master Chief Keltex a nod. Both of the security officers wore black fatigues like their chief, and had their gear all set to go. The plan that had been proposed by Lieutenant’s Nimetti and Black-Knight had been a good one – her security squids would be running interference and providing cover while the marine sharks breached the prison in search of Doctor Senok and the two Selshan prisoners held near the doctor. Black-Knight would run the shuttle interference while JoNs, Nimetti and Keltex provided the sniper cover. She knew that Black-Knight was already prepping the shuttle down in the main shuttle bay, so now all that remained would be for the three snipers to get into position and wait on the ground pounders.

 

JoNs gave a silent nod to the technician on duty at the control console, and then the three officers disappeared as they were transported down to the surface of the prison planet.

 

**********

Selshan Prison Planet, Twilight Cycle

The three security officers had taken up a triangle grid pattern around the prison, with each of them covering a section of the structure. JoNs, Nimetti and Keltex had all blended into the shadows provided by the oncoming night cycle of the planet with the aide of the black marine fatigues that they wore. There was nothing to do now but wait. The sniper team wouldn’t make their positions known until the marine strike team moved in, and Black-Knight likewise was also in standby readiness and wouldn’t move in with the shuttle interference until the word was given. Major Rieve was the appointed operational lead, and so, both marine and security officer alike waited on her for the word to go out over the team comm lines.

 

Kansas had by now calmed down, and her feelings of anticipation and excitement had won out over the nausea. The golden feline calmly waited, further going into ‘the zone’. She waited quietly, bringing the sniper scope up to an eye and picked her targets, sighting down on an oblivious Soltan guard standing his watch in one of the tall towers placed about the structure as a security containment measure. The feline was hunkered down on her belly among a collection of scrub bushes and small rock outcroppings, and she had further cover in the form of a small tree set behind her location.

 

A fluttering caught the feline officers’ eye, and she turned her head to see a sort of night bird hovering nearby, the low key blue and black shading on its feathery wings catching the waning daylight.

 

The Caitiian officer started muttering under her breathe. “Don’t you dare land on me… don’t land on me …fly away…fly away…go away…”

 

The dang thing had landed on the barrel of her rifle. “… son of a b*tch.”

 

Kansas shook the rifle a bit. Nothing.

 

She whispered for the thing to go away. Nothing.

 

She shooed at it with a paw. Nothing.

 

The bird just sat there on the barrel, gazing back at the flustered feline with the black orbs that were its eyes. Her stomach roiled as some of her doubts came flitting to the surface of her mind. This bird was a living thing…just like the prison guards and anyone foolish enough to get in the way of the Agincourt assault and cover teams who would be extracting the prisoners. They were no more then targets that would be taken out …it was such a waste of life. Viciously, the feline tramped down on these thoughts. There was no way she could give into them. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to complete the operation, and her teammates were counting on her to do her job.

 

In another attempt to dislodge the pretty avian from its perch on top of the rifle barrel, she blew a breath out at the bird and offered a low and displeased growl.

 

And the dang thing freaked. Freaked out badly.

 

With its feathers puffed out and wings spread wide, the little avian cawed irately at Kansas; the sound of the caw sounded deafening to her sensitive ears.

 

Oh my gods. Security cat attacked by irate indigenous bird. Bird tries to gouge eyes out. Chaos ensues when cat defends herself. Bird is shot by the full ballistics force of the sniper rifle and only bits of feather and beak remain. An alarm is raised in the distance due to the level of noise. The mission op is blown. Said cat gets furry butt kicked by commanding officers.

 

Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

 

Kansas had screwed her eyes shut. “Please go away. Go away.” Her tone came out soft.

 

The gold Caitian cautiously opened her eyes, and to her relief the little avian had finally flown away. The bird had however, left behind a present: a wet spot of poo on the section of the sniper rifle where it had been perched.

 

Well… her mother had always told Kansas that getting sh*t on by a bird was at one time considered good luck in some human based cultural superstitions …